


Holidays

by lunarlychallenged



Category: Girl Meets World
Genre: F/M, Grown up AU, Holidays, Riarkle was endgame my dudes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-20
Updated: 2018-03-20
Packaged: 2019-04-04 22:57:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14030691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunarlychallenged/pseuds/lunarlychallenged
Summary: Farkle shouldn't have been surprised that he fell in love with Riley.  She lit up his entire life, and she was too bright for him to look away.





	Holidays

December

Farkle thumped his head against his window frame. He opened his eyes to look at the apartment across from him, cringed, and banged his head against the frame again.

It was not fair, and it seriously made no sense. He and the neighbor across the way - a cute brunette girl who he had never spoken to, but sometimes saw while she watered flowers that she grew outside - had been having an unspoken Christmas decorations war, and though he bought the best decorations money could buy, his rival’s decor always looked way better than his. 

Why did her little fairy lights look better than his flashing ones? She had a little nativity scene, and it should have looked cheap in comparison to his massive reindeer and sleigh, but it somehow looked sweet instead. 

It had all started when she first moved in a year before. She went all out with the decorations, and it looked great. He hadn’t minded at all, though he had never been as into the Christmas spirit as he suspected she was. But it wasn’t just Christmas. She decorated for Valentines Day. She would string up little clover lights around St. Patrick's Day. The Fourth of July had sparklers and flags; Halloween had pumpkins and gourds and skeletons. Thanksgiving came with little turkey stickers and tasteful floral arrangements. Year round, she decorated the balcony outside her apartment, and on a whim, he decided that it might be fun to outdo her for the Christmas holiday.

A friendly little competition, that was all. Just a friendly competition. He bought all of the biggest decorations, in a friendly way. He spent hours putting them up, sending friendly vibes her way. All very friendly, for sure.

And then she put up hers, and instead of looking underwhelming, it made his balcony look gaudy. Typical. It started out friendly, but now he had lost, and he was feeling decidedly less cheerful.

At that precise moment, as he pounded his head against the window with a pained look on his face, the neighbor girl crawled through her window with a bag of birdseed. She glanced across the alleyway while she filled a birdfeeder and did a double take. She beamed, shooting him a thumbs up.

He froze. She had seen him, and she saw him see her, so he couldn’t duck away without seeming like an entirely different type of loser. He miserably opened his window and stuck his head out, shivering a little in the New York City winter.

“I love what you’ve done with the place!” She looked totally genuine, and it made him almost feel bad for being bitter.

“Yours looks better,” he called back. Not at all bitter. Totally friendly. Absolutely.

She put a hand over her heart, looking completely touched. “Thanks! I’m not sure that it’s better than yours, though. Those reindeer are adorable,” she said wistfully. “And that inflatable snowman is great! He looks like he needs a big hug.”

He gaped at her. She couldn’t possibly be a real person, but if he was as good at reading people as he liked to think he was - Farkle Minkus was good at a great many things, and he seldom short-changed himself - she was genuine.

He stifled a smile, still wanting to hang on to that bitter feeling of loss. “I don’t think it would feel that good to hug.”

She shook her head solemnly. “Everything feels good to hug. Hugs feel good, my friend.”

She looked at him expectantly, and he realized that she was waiting for her “friend” to provide a name. “Farkle Minkus,” he said. This felt like a fake conversation. He felt like he was talking to a person who was in some sitcom, only allowed to feel one emotion and occupy one cliche.

“I’m Riley Matthews,” she said with delight. She spread her arms a little, looking almost like a bird ready to take flight. “Do you like Christmas cookies, Farkle?”

“What?”

“That’s a silly question,” she agreed. “Everybody likes cookies. Do you want to come over for some?”

He stared at her. She couldn’t be real. She was too nice, and too happy, and after just minutes of knowing him, she seemed to have decided that she liked him. People did not like Farkle after a few minutes; people liked Farkle after years of being pestered into submission. After minutes of knowing her, even with those minutes having immediately followed minutes of intense dislike, he thought that he wanted her to like him. He wanted to be somebody that deserved to be liked by her.

“Okay,” he said, and he went and ate Christmas cookies with her.

 

January

 

He heard the squeaking metal through his window and grinned. He had been trying to put together an Ikea bookshelf for an hour, but was failing miserably. If a genius couldn’t do it, the company had to be doing something wrong, right? He had been ignoring texts, he had skipped lunch, and he hadn’t been able to go to the movie he had been planning to see, but he still hadn’t finished that stupid bookshelf.

Though he would happily have ignored all of the other distractions for as long as it took him to finish, the squeaking from his balcony could only mean one thing, and he would have dropped absolutely everything for that one thing.

He and Riley, despite the one-sided rocky beginning, had become fast friends. She had infinite patience for his competitive nature and endless trivia, and he thought that if there was any reason to believe that the universe revolved around the earth, it would be that Riley was the only thing worth revolving around.

They had swapped phone numbers early on, but Riley said that that was a lame way to be friends.

“It gets too easy to be friends without doing things together,” she had exclaimed while waving her frosting-covered hands for emphasis. “There are so many fun ways to make friendship interesting, and if all we do is text, we might skip over the fun parts.” She pointed a sticky finger at Farkle, mischievous smile growing across her lovely face. “You and I are going to do something interesting.”

He had been helpless to resist, sitting there with a plate of her cookies. They were almost too sugary though he never would have told her so. He bit into one, nodding in agreement. “What do you have in mind?”

Her idea, as it turned out, was to tie a loop of rope between their two apartments and hang a bucket from it. At any given time, they could put something in the bucket and pull on the rope to tug the bucket to the other side. They passed notes, books, snacks, and whatever else caught their eye. Sometimes Farkle would make little model planes for her to hang up. Sometimes she would find a pretty rock or button that she wanted him to see, and he would put them in his Riley Jar of buttons and rocks.

The squeaking signaled the fact that she was sending something across for him, so he climbed out onto the small balcony to grab it. Riley stood eagerly on the other side, nearly vibrating with excitement while she waited for him to open the envelope that rested at the bottom.

Inside was a meticulously crafted invitation. You, Farkle Minkus, are formally invited to Riley Matthews’ monthly Game Night.

“The one that Maya and Lucas go to?” He grinned at her. Riley, in the month that he had known her, had gone on and on about her two dearest friends. She had sworn up and down that he had to meet them, but he had sort of thought that it was just something she said. Sharing friends could be scary, and he wouldn’t have blamed her for keeping the different parts of her life separate.

“Yes! You just have to meet them. All of my favorite people in the same room,” she said dreamily. “Friends and food and games. What could be better?”

So he stood, a few days later, gripping his Scrabble board too tight in his aching fingers while he tried to convince himself to knock on her door. It wouldn’t be bad. Lots of people didn’t like Farkle at first, so he knew that if Riley’s friends didn’t like him right then, it wouldn’t be the end of the world.

Just knock on the door.

Riley was the brightest thing in the entire world, and she made everything else look bright too. If he was with her, the best parts of him would come out, and her friends would have to like him.

Just knock on the door.

But what if her friends didn’t like him, and then Riley realized that he wasn’t as great as she thought? What if he had just been a phase, and everybody else knocked some sense into her?

Or maybe it would be better to leave. He could text her and say he was sick, or that something had come up at work. She would be disappointed, but he would send a mood ring or make an “I’m sorry” card and she would forgive him immediately. It would be fine, and he could just leave.

He spun around, a little relieved now that he had made up his mind, but his getaway was over as soon as it began. A short blonde woman stood behind him, arms crossed, lips curling into a smirk.

“You must be the Minki,” she said.

“You must be Maya,” he said, defeated. 

“You bet,” she said with a nod toward the door. “You’re gonna turn around and knock on that door, unless you want to break Riley’s sheltered little heart.”

He and Maya had never met, but he suspected that she was better at reading people than he was. All she’d had to do was look at him, and she knew that the best way to get him to act was to site Riley. He knocked on the door.

Maya had been right, or course; Riley was over the moon to see them there. She was in top Riley form. She had made cookies and cupcakes so sugary they made his teeth hurt, and he ate so many that his stomach ached a little. She had Uno and Clue and Monopoly. 

Really, Farkle had fun. Lucas was nice, and though he wasn’t like Farkle at all, he seemed to like Farkle just fine. Maya was biting and relentless and sharp, so the opposite of Riley, but she and Riley balanced each other well. Riley brought out the kindness in Maya; Maya brought out the closest thing to daring that Riley had.

Farkle won at Monopoly, of course, but Riley came in close second because all of them paid gave her money to save her from bankruptcy for stupid reasons.

“Riley,” Lucas said casually, “I’ll bet you $20 Monopoly bucks that you can’t do a French accent.”

A glimmer of offense entered her eyes. “I absolutely can, Lucas. Prepare yourself for French Riley.”

Riley could not, in fact, do a French accent, but they all applauded her afterwards regardless. She gave a sweet little bow and accepted the money graciously.

“I don’t think that anybody could put an entire cupcake in their mouth,” Maya said conversationally.

“Actually, I-” Farkle began, but snapped his mouth shut when Maya glared at him. Oh. Oh, right. “No, probably not. Those cupcakes are way too big.”

Riley’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh, ye of little faith, are you prepared to put your money where your mouth is?” When each person put forth $50, she proceeded to shove an entire, truly massive cupcake in her mouth. Frosting ended up all over her face, her teeth were stained purple for the rest of the night, and Farkle was honestly a little impressed. He usually didn’t like to part with money, but he would have been willing to give her twice as much to see it again.

It was a fun night, and Farkle was a little sad to go. He didn’t have a lot of friends to hang out with. He felt sort of like a kid again after playing games with people who seemed to genuinely like him.

He was pulling his shoes back on, lagging in spite of himself, when Lucas asked him a question he hadn’t anticipated. “Is it cool for me to throw you on the snack schedule, Farkle?”

“What?” Farkle gaped at the other boy, who acted as though he didn’t understand why Farkle was surprised.

“We have a schedule so we know who brings the snacks to the game night every month. Can I throw you into the pool?”

“Yeah,” Farkle said. He fought back a goofy grin, but when Riley and Maya didn’t protest, it erupted in full force. “Sure, I can bring something next time, if you want.”

Farkle had gone to the game night, and Riley’s friends liked him. He had gone to the game night, and Riley still liked him afterwards. And maybe, just maybe, that meant that he had a group of friends now, too.

 

February

 

It was a little strange to Farkle that somebody as beautiful and charming as Riley could end up with no Valentine, but that was the case when the horrid day of love arrived. Though she had claimed the week before that she didn’t mind, he suspected that maybe she did. It was in the way she didn’t read her conversation hearts before she ate them. It was in the droopy way she tied helium heart balloons to the railing outside her window. She was as close to unhappy as he had ever seen her, and Farkle couldn’t allow it.

Early on February 14th, he put a bouquet of roses in the bucket and sent it her way. She didn’t find it until later on, but when she did, she called him.

“You are the absolute best, Farkle,” she gushed. “They’re the best present I’ve ever gotten.”

Every present was the best present she’d ever gotten, he knew, but he still flushed with pleasure. “Want to hang out later? You can pick the sappiest movie you can think of. Or,” he added as an afterthought, “you could pick something so anti-love that it flies in the face of Valentines Day and capitalism.”

“That’s very holiday spirit of you.”

He shrugged, though she couldn’t see it over the phone. “I’m not so good at holiday spirit.”

“You were at Christmas,” she retorted.

“Actually, that was just because I wanted to look more Christmas-y than you did,” he said sheepishly.

“What? But that’s - never mind. Doesn’t matter. We’ll watch When Harry Met Sally,” she said resolutely, and hung up the phone.

He bought her a box of chocolates to eat while they watched the movie, which she insisted on sharing with him. 

“I bought one for myself,” he said as he tried to push the box away, but she pushed it harder. 

“We’re sharing it. Valentines is about sharing.”

“That isn’t a thing, Riles,” he groused. All the same, he grabbed a chocolate from the box without looking at the map. He liked them all just fine.

“It is to me,” she said.

She was fun to watch movies with. Riley didn’t talk through the whole thing, but she did make happy sighs and dramatic gasps throughout the film. By the end, her head was resting contentedly on his shoulder.

“Riles?”

She hummed at him, but he jostled her a little to get her attention. “What?”

“Thanks for being my Palentine.”

She beamed. “Palentine. I like that. You’re the best Palentine a girl could ask for, Farkle.”

She pecked him on the cheek, and the spot felt warm until he went to bed that night. Strange, maybe, but he supposed that friends made friends feel warm and tingly sometimes.

 

March

 

They each stood on the balcony. He was looking into the bucket, while she bounced from one foot to the next as she waiting for him to say something. He looked up at her, surprised. “Movie tickets?”

“Surprise!” she crowed, throwing handfuls of confetti into the air. He wasn’t sure where she kept it; Riley always seemed to have confetti to throw at the precise moment that it made sense, and he never felt quite right about asking if she planned the conversation to end up with confetti or if she carried it around just in case. “The theatre is having a space travel marathon this weekend, and I got us weekend passes! We could see the Martian, or Star Trek, or Interstellar-”

“You want to go to a sci-fi marathon with me?” Farkle, a total romantic, was feeling a little weak in the knees. That wasn’t right. He didn’t swoon over Riley. They just had movie nights, and set up the telescope on his balcony to look at Pluto that one time, and baked cookies, and maybe cuddled, and now she wanted to go to the best movie marathon in the world with him even though he would be insufferable through it all, and oh, good Lord, he was swooning over Riley-

“Duh,” she scoffed. “Riley and Farkle time is full of fun, interesting things. Riley and Farkle time is the best time, so we do the best things.”

“Great,” he said weakly. This was bad. This was really bad, since Riley wasn’t trying to woo him; she was too good to everybody. Farkle was going to be stuck falling in love with the best person to ever happened to him, and he would be absolutely ruined.

“Oh,” she added nonchalantly, “I got planet shaped cookie cutters, so we can sneak in universe themed snacks.”

It was supposed to be friendly, he mourned when he went back inside. He wasn’t supposed to fall in love with Riley. Even so, was it really a surprise? Even people who loved the dark found themselves looking at the light when they found it, so when Riley lit up his life, how could he possibly have looked away?

 

April

 

“So,” Maya said gravely. She took a long slurp out of her Slurpee straw, not breaking eye contact all the while. “You have a thing for Riley, huh?”

The two were sitting on the curb outside of a 7-11, taking advantage of free Slurpee day. Lucas and Riley hadn’t been able to make it, but Farkle and Maya cared too much about free food to pass up on the day just because they had never hung out solo before. Maybe, he thought now, it wasn’t a good idea after all.

Farkle was silent for a second, heart racing, but he shrugged. “Of course. How could I not?”

Maybe he should have lied. Maya was Riley’s best friend, after all, and best friend rules were different than regular friend rules. But Farkle, in the weeks since the realization that he was crazy about Riley Matthews, had found himself trying to be good enough for her. He never would be, of course, since intelligence and money had nothing on kindness and happiness. There was a part of him that still hoped that someday, if Riley realized that Farkle was a viable option, he would be closer to good enough than he was just then. And the person who deserved Riley was a person who would say how he felt about her. If he lied, he wasn’t anywhere near deserving of her.

Maya nodded, smile making her look like the Cheshire cat. “Good,” she said. “I was hoping it would be you.”

“Why?”

“Because you know that she’s worth it. Worth everything,” Maya said simply. “Other people don’t, but you get it.”

Farkle nodded. Maybe nothing would ever happen between them, but to have Maya’s blessing was the only way anything ever could. For that matter, having Maya’s blessing was the only reason he had any hope.

“She is worth everything,” he agreed. “I’ll give her everything she wants from me.”

Maya’s smile grew, and Farkle was hit by the realization that this was the first real smile she had ever given him. It wasn’t sarcastic or tolerant; it was happy and accepting and he suddenly understood why Riley and Lucas looked at Maya like she was made of magic. When she smiled like that, she was. “I think that she wants more from you than you think, kid.”

Farkle felt a foolish grin spread. Maybe so. “I’ll give her everything,” he repeated.

Maya raised her Slurpee at him. “I’ll drink to that.” She clinked her plastic cup against his and took another long draw.

 

May

 

Riley and Farkle were laying side by side in the grass in Central Park. She had been horrified to find out that he had never been, but he had just never seen the point. It was a pretty park, but he could see trees and grass anywhere. Maybe not anywhere in New York City, but still.

“Isn’t it relaxing,” she breathed. Her eyes were closed, fingers buried in the green grass.

“Sure is,” he replied, looking at her. “Riles?”

“Hm?”

He looked at the way the sun hit her face. She looked truly, completely, heartbreakingly happy. “What’s the next big thing that you’re looking forward to?”

She turned her head and squinted at him. “Like, my goal?”

“No, I mean, when you picture something that will make you ridiculously happy, what’s the thing you picture happening the soonest?”

She pursed her lips, thinking carefully. “Maybe my wedding,” she said thoughtfully.

“How do you picture it?” Maybe he was a little hopeful. Maybe that was stupid, but Riley made him feel a little stupid sometimes. The fact was, when he imagined his wedding, Riley was the only part that mattered.

She spouted into detailed plans. She knew the flowers, the dress type, the color scheme, the guest list, what Maya would be wearing, and the songs she would dance to. She knew the time of year that she wanted it to happen, and she had a location in mind. Riley knew what she wanted, and Farkle was more surprised than he should have been.

“So now you just need the groom, huh?” His question was a joke, but her smile faded a little.

“Yeah,” she said wistfully. “I just need a groom. You know, as a kid, I sort of thought that I’d be married by the time I was in my mid-twenties. Or that I’d be getting there, you know?”

He reached over and squeezed her hand. “You’ll find somebody.” Maybe it wouldn’t be him, but that would be okay, as long as the guy looked at Riley the way Riley deserved to be looked at.

“Soon, I hope.”

“Well,” he said lightly, “you can always have me as a backup.”

She leaned over to him and kissed the tip of his nose, too quick for him to respond. “You’re never anybody’s backup, Farkley. You’re at the top of every list.”

He should have asked if she meant it. He should have asked if she meant that he was at the top of her list of potential husbands. He knew that he should have, but in that moment, while the sun kissed his skin and his nose tingled where her lips had touched, he was speechless. He was so in love, and Riley was so perfect, and by the time the words rose to his lips, she was pointing out a butterfly that had landed on the tip of her shoe.

 

June

 

Farkle had been waiting on his balcony since the sunrise, not sure when Riley would get up. He wasn’t sure how she managed it, but she somehow avoided getting up at a regular time every morning. She was an early to bed, erratic to rise person, so Farkle had to be prepared for any time.

He had done his research in the prior weeks, trying to figure out the right time to tell her how he felt. Riley was a woman of simple pleasures, so he could have done it over text and she would have been flattered, but Riley deserved more than a half-hearted love confession.

Research had pointed him to one of the lesser-known holidays: June 12th was Loving Day. He became her friend because of holiday decorations, so he would use holiday decorations to try to take the next step with her.

When Riley looked out her window at 9:03 AM, the first thing she noticed was the bucket full of flowers in front of her window. Farkle saw her beam, and then he saw the smile turn perplexed when she looked beyond it.

He saw her lips move as she read the massive sign above his window: Happy Loving Day, Riley!

She was smiling, a little confused and a lot delighted, when she came outside. “What’s going on, Farkle?”

He pointed up at the sign. “It’s Loving Day, and this is me telling you that I love you.”

“Awe, I love you too!” She beamed at him, and though he was a little disappointed that she hadn’t understood it the first time around, he had expected it.

“No, Riley. Listen to me. It’s Loving Day, and this is me telling you that I. Love. You.” He tossed up a handful heart-shaped confetti into the air.

She paused, and through the anxious fog in his mind, he thought that he saw the delight grow. “Like, love-love?”

“Love-love,” he agreed. “Kisses and hugs and weddings. I love you, Riley. Happy Loving Day.”

She beamed. She started to vibrate, slowly growing from a wiggle to a full on jump. “Yay,” she crowed. She threw up her own handful of confetti, though he knew for a fact that her pajamas didn’t have pockets.

“Riles, where did you get that-”

She ignored his question, racing inside. He stood on the balcony, completely baffled as to what to do next, until he heard knocking on his front door.

He ducked back inside, chest ready to burst. When he opened the door, Riley threw her arms around his neck and pressed her lips against his. Like with everything she did, her kiss was enthusiastic and addictive. He wasn’t sure how his hands ended up in her hair, but it was as though his body automatically knew how to respond to hers. She hummed happily against his lips when he tugged on her curls.

She pulled away and buried her face in his neck, squeezing him so tightly that he thought his lungs would collapse.

Pulling away, she pecked his nose again. “Okay, kisses and hugs, check. I’m not sure I have time for a wedding today, but if you really want-”

He gave a bark of laughter, mind whirling. “We can wait for the wedding part. I’ll take two out of three things.”

“Good. I’d rather have a wedding in April,” she said.

“Wait,” Farkle said. She had kissed him. She had been happy. “So, you love me? Right?”

She laughed. “Of course I do. I’ve been love, love, loving you since, like, always.”

“Awesome,” he said. “That’s - that’s amazing! Great! I love you!”

“Finally in the holiday spirit,” she teased, and pulled him back in for another kiss.

If that was what holiday spirit felt like, Farkle Minkus was a believer in festivities.


End file.
